


On the Roof

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Males kissing, Scars, broken spirit, repairs to heart and body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-17 16:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: John goes back to Bart's and stands on the roof and meets some unexpected visitors.





	

It was about two years from the time that Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof at Bart's Hospital. I decided it was time to go back to Bart's and revisit, to put my nightmares to rest.

* * *

Sherlock had been on the cell phone with me saying his goodbyes. He threw the phone on the rooftop, spread his arms out like wings and just...fell. Down his body went, heard him hit the ground. I ran to him and felt his pulse and he was gone.

Gone to the world, gone to me.

* * *

These last two years since have been a nightmare. How many times have I picked up that gun and pointed it at my head? How many times have I cried and cried? How many times, John Watson, has it seemed to you that life means nothing anymore.

* * *

I had been in Afghanistan in the army. When I got shot in the shoulder, I was in the hospital, and the wound became infected. I was in for a month. When I got out I began to see a therapist. Told her that nothing ever happens to me anymore.

* * *

Finding Sherlock had been a saving grace. I had a purpose in life.

But losing Sherlock had devastated me again!

I had loved Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

So, it was with deep trepidation that I approached Bart's Hospital again.

* * *

I went in, took the elevator to the top floor and went out the door to the rooftop. Standing at the door, I looked around. Did I expect his ghost to show up?

* * *

Nobody and nothing. Just the sound of the wind. Slowly I walked over to the edge, the same edge that Sherlock had stood on. Put my foot on the top ledge and stood so I could see down to the street and the tiny images down there.

I felt like following my Sherlock to the ground. But...like the coward I was I turned around and stepped off the ledge.

I did not hear the door open.

* * *

A voice assailed me.

          "Hiii did not expect to see you here, John Watson. Looking to see if you can fly?"

It was the voice of the man I hated, the mastermind who made Sherlock jump off this building.

* * *

Jim Moriarty. He was standing there, coat flapping in the breeze, smile on his face.

My body shaking, fists balled up, I walk toward him and punch him hard in the face.

I lean into him to throw another punch. To beat the crap out of him.

* * *

          "No, No, John," he said, gasping and pushes me off him like I was a flea. 

He flicks his hands down his coat and looks at me, daring me.

          "John you don't want to do that. What would Sherlock say?"

          "He's dead you arse hole, and you made him do it!"

Jim smiles, "I was supposed to be dead on this roof...and look at me now! What makes you think he's dead? Just because you saw him jump off the roof?"

* * *

I was ready to go at him again but for the fact of the way he said that.

The tone of his voice.

I looked at him cockeyed.

          "What... did you just mean by that statement?"

          " Ah, John, sweet John, Sherlock is not dead! No, Johnny boy, he is in Europe thinking he can take out my organization. What a laugh! Faking death and not telling you!"

          "You're LYING Jim," yelling at him.

Still standing close to Jim, I so wanted to push him off the roof.

* * *

          "Now why would I lie to you? What would it get me? You see Mister Watson, I and only I, am going to get Sherlock. He's mine! Not yours," he shouts at me as the spittle flies from his mouth and onto my face.

I wiped my face off, stunned at this.

* * *

So this is why he had Sherlock solving crimes. He was playing with him.

It was his way of showing Sherlock how smart he was and how much he wanted Sherlock with him.

* * *

I turn away from him and begin to leave.

If I stay another moment I might do something bad to Jim.

* * *

          "John, don't even try to get in touch with him because I will have him for myself even if I have to KILL him."

* * *

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to Jim, anger written on me.

          "Good luck with that, Jim. I love him and will do anything to keep him, even if it means killing you."

* * *

I slam the door and get into the elevator and go down, all the time trying to understand this new situation.

* * *

Was Sherlock alive? WHY did he not contact me? What in heaven's name was the truth?

Only one way to find out. Mycroft...Sherlock's brother.

* * *

I get in a cab and head directly to Mycroft's office.

I am seated in the outer office, and the wait is killing me. My hand is shaking as it does when I get anxious.

Finally, I get told by his secretary that I can enter his office.

I walk in, no storm in.

* * *

          "Okay, what the fuck is going on? I just saw Moriarty and he tells me Sherlock is alive. Is this true, and if so why has it been hidden from me?"

          "Yes, John."

Mycroft has a frown on his face.

          " He is alive although not in good shape physically. He is on his way home right now."

          "Why did you keep this from me?"

          "Because, we all know that you love Sherlock and if we told you the truth you would not be grieving as if he was dead, and Moriarty would then know he is alive."

          "Well, he certainly knows that now. I just saw him, and he told me."

His eyebrows raise at that news.

* * *

I did not give him anymore on how I met Moriarty.

* * *

          "He found out just recently. And that's part of the reason Sherlock is coming home."

          "I was going to call you today in fact, because, John, he will need your help in recovery. He has been tortured and is broken."

Mycroft is awfully calm about this and sits down. But that is his demeanor.

Me?...I can't think, can't digest this.

* * *

He offers me a chair and I sit to take it all in.

I stare down at my shaking hand for moments, unsure what to say.

Mycroft stands as if to send me off.

* * *

I look up at Mycroft.

          "But as you probably know I am getting married to Mary Morstan. I'm going to propose to her tomorrow night."

Mycroft looks down at me with a scowl.

          "Are you really? Priorities John. What do you want? Or should I say whom?"

All the things I was going to say to Mycroft disappear.

* * *

I don't say a word, get up, and as I go to the door, Mycroft says," I'll be in touch with you as soon as Sherlock lands."

I walk out onto the street and hail a cabHeading to our flat I try to think what to say to Mary.

I have to go through with this wedding.

Can not go back to Sherlock. Cannot take any more of the uncertainness of Sherlock and I. I want stability...some quiet.

* * *

Once inside the flat, I take off my jacket and hold Mary in a big hug. I hold her tighter and longer than I usually do.

* * *

          "What is wrong John? You seem shaken," she backs away and looks at my face.

          "I've just had a hard day. Tired, and I'm very hungry. I just want to take it easy tonight."

She returns with, "Ok, let's go. Dinner is ready."

* * *

During these months that I have known Mary, she has been so supportive of me. And it has been trying for her. I have nights of terrible nightmares. Some of them my time in the army, but mostly of seeing Sherlock make that jump. I relive it over and over.

She knows all about Sherlock, but not that I loved him as more than a friend - she even has visited his grave with me.

During dinner, I have a drink and try and make small conversation.

I just want to be by myself to try and sort this all out.

We watch some telly after dinner, but my mind keeps wandering to the old days with Sherlock.

The days of running through the streets of London. Sitting by the fire in the fireplace, each of us absorbed in our laptops. Having tea, eating takeaway.  
I have no idea what we are watching. And Mary senses that.

Finally, I get up. "My dear, I am not watching anything...my head is spinning. I think I will head to bed."

She again looks at me oddly, starts to say something, then stops.

I kiss her goodnight and go into the bedroom, put my pj's on and slip under the covers.

That night, lying in bed, not sleeping, I decide to hold off on proposing. I need more time to think this through.

For the next three days, I go back on forth on my decision.

Marry Mary or go to Sherlock.

I continue to work at the office, but my brain does not stay on any patient long.

In the afternoon of the fourth day I decide to go back to the roof of Bart's. I don't know why.

I take the rest of the day off and begin to slowly walk to Bart's.

I take the elevator up, and again, open the door to the rooftop.

Stepping out I see a figure standing there. It is SHERLOCK in his Belstaff coat and scarf. Just like he never left!

He is turned sideways from me and does not see me..., ",or at least I THINK he doesn't.

"Hello Jo," he says in his deep baritone voice which sends shivers through my body.

I don't think, I don't do anything...every part of me is shaking. With Joy!!

Sherlock turns to look at me and his look bores into my heart.

I walk to him, look up at that magnificent face. He puts his arms around me and kisses me on my forehead.

" Ah John, it is so good to be back."

I luxuriate in his touch. "Sherlock, I am here."

Right now I don't want to spoil it...don't want to ask questions. Just to have him hold me is worth everything.

Suddenly the door swings open and we both twist around to see...Jim Moriarty standing there.

My body goes stiff. Sherlock pushes me away from him. I move off to the side, so I can watch both of them at once.

"Hello, Sherlock. Oh, and you too John. Nice to see YOU again."

Sherlock looks at Jim. A look of total surprise on Sherlock's face.

"I thought you had died. I guess, like me, you didn't".

He moves around to look at me."When did you see Jim last?"

"A few days ago, Sherlock, on this very roof. That's how I found out you were alive."

"Oh don't act so surprised, Sherlock. You should have figured out I was alive. You and your great ability to deduce everything.

But you NEVER suspected that I would fake my death, did you? We both faked our deaths on this roof for different reasons. And now we're back here for differing reasons. You want John and I want YOU! But you can't have John Watson. He's boring...and you don't do boring."

I watch this play out with them, not assured of its outcome.

My hand goes to my coat pocket where my gun is. I grip it...ready for anything.

"Jim, I'm glad you're alive. Where have YOU been? I had been looking for you in Europe."

"That's the problem with you Sherlock, you always think you have the answers. But...the answer to this is right in front of you."

Sherlock again moves around to look at me as Jim is saying this.

"NO, Sherlock, it is not John...it has NEVER been John. It is ME, Sherlock. I am the PERFECT MATCH for you. Can't you SEE that?"

I can see the realization dawn on Sherlock's face. "So this is why the games over the years. You were trying to get my attention."

"NOW you understand, Mr. Holmes. It's just YOU.... and ME!"

Sherlock seems to be vacillating between walking over to me or Jim.

I can't figure out what he is thinking.

"Jim, If I go with you will you leave John alone?" That deep voice is low and full of distress.

SHIT! Now, what do I do? Sherlock is going to give his life for mine! AGAIN!

"You see, I was right, Sherlock, you DO have a heart. And I am going to BURN it right NOW!

He whips a gun out of his pocket and points it at ME. He shoots!!! His bullet misses its mark...ME!

As he pulls the trigger I've already got my gun out of my pocket, point it at Jim and shoot.

I see Jim jump and grab at his heart. Mine did NOT miss.

Sherlock runs to him as he falls, catches him in his arms. Cradles him, holding his hand to the area on his chest where the blood is coming out.  
With a small voice and shallow breathing Jim looks into Sherlock's eyes," Sherlock, Sherlock, I HAVE always loved you. Always wanted you. Hold me."

I know that Jim is dying and it's only a few minutes. No time to do anything.

I stand a bit away realizing that they need some space, but still near enough to see and hear everything.

Jim reaches a hand up and gently touches Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock is visibly crying now.

Sherlock reaches down and kisses Jim on the lips.

At first, it shocks me. Then I realize that Sherlock did have a certain amount of feelings for this man. In some ways they WERE alike.

Jim places his hand in Sherlock's curls and tousles them.

He gives a sigh, his eyes totally on Sherlock and whispers, "Goodbye, my love." And then the life goes out of him.

Sherlock gently picks him up and nods to me to open the door. Without saying anything, I open it, and Sherlock carries Jim Moriarty down to the morgue.

As we go down the stairs I see Sherlock stagger a few times. What is wrong? He is usually very strong.

It must be the emotion of the moment. Or...Mycroft did say that Sherlock was hurt.

At the morgue, Molly is there, and we put Jim on a table. Molly gives out a gasp as she recognizes Jim.

"What happened?", she looks at us both.

"Molly, let's just leave it as it is," I say, looking at Sherlock for acknowledgment. He nods his head yes.

" We will contact DI Lestrade later to let him know everything."

We walk out of the hospital to the street and look at one another. Sherlock seems pale and looks like he struggling to stand.

"John, I think we need to talk." And even his voice is weak.

"I agree, Sherlock."

I am still a bit shaky being with him...and all that has just transpired.

In the cab, it is even more transparent that something is bothering Sherlock.

"What is the matter?".

"Not now John, wait til we get home."

Home! That's 221B Baker Street. Where we lived together!

At the flat, we walk through the door just as Mrs. Hudson comes out of her flat. "John?, well, you can imagine MY surprise at seeing this man alive."-and she nods her head in Sherlock's direction-"I can't ....oh never mind...he's here and that is all that matters." She moves to the front door and goes out.

Sherlock and I look at her going out the door and both of us smile.

We head up the stairs acutely aware of each other's nearness. Sherlock walks up the few steps very slowly hanging onto the banister. His coat comes off, and he lies on the couch on his side, facing away from me.

I suggest tea. He shakes his head yes. I go into the kitchen, and start to laugh.

Sherlock has been away for two years...I know Mrs. Hudson had cleaned up the place because I had visited once after Sherlock died. But...here it is...the microscope and the glassware. Just like old times.

I place the tea on the small table in the living room.

I eye Sherlock on the couch and now want to find out what is wrong. "Do you need anything? What can I get you? Are you in pain?."

He turns his face towards me, his eyes are glazed over.

"Sherlock, what do you need?" I say, going into "doctor" mode.

"Been checked out of the hospital already. Just need to rest. Help me get to my bed".

He stands up, and I grip him around the waist, and we hobble into his room. He practically falls on the bed, face down.

I manage to pull off his shoes and socks.

"Sherlock, get up and let me take off your shirt and loosen your trousers."

He barely sits up and hangs his head down like it's a heavy weight. I loosen the zipper on his trousers. Not a good time to get excited over seeing Sherlock in his briefs.

He has unbuttoned his shirt, and I try to help him take it off, all the while noticing how skinny he is.

But he seems to be trying not to turn his back to me.

" For fuck's sake, will you stop wiggling so much"!

And then I see it! HIS BACK.....and I cease what I am trying to do, take a deep breath and let it out slowly!!

Bright, red, slashes across his back, some pretty new!!!! Some just recently opened...I bet from when he carried Jim this afternoon.

No wonder he is hurting!!!!!

Never mind talking. This is not the time for it. Sherlock needs to be taken care of.

"Yes, yes I know," he says barely above a whisper, realizing what I am seeing.

" There is a jar of salve in my trouser pocket. Can you get it and put it on my back, please".

He turns on his stomach. I find the salve and gently apply it as he's gasping and shifting constantly.

I had also found a bottle of oxycontin pills in the other trouser pocket.

I walk into the kitchen, get a glass of water, fetch it into his bedroom and, while still lying on his stomach, he takes the pill and the water.

"Now you get some sleep. I'm staying here tonight to make sure all is okay with you. I'm keeping our doors open so if you need me just yell."

"Thank you, John".

Covering him with a blanket would only rub on the wounds, so I make sure the window is closed to keep him warm.

I feel I could murder Mycroft. Why had Mycroft ALLOWED this to happen!

First I have to let Mary know what is going on.

I text her...not coming home tonight...Sherlock is ALIVE...will explain later....he is hurt, and I am staying at 221b right now.

She immediately texts back I'm in shock, John. Do you need me there?

Thanks, Mary, but he is sleeping now. I will let you know further.

Shaking uncontrollably from seeing him in this way, I go into what was once my bedroom. I lay down on the bed and muffle my sobs in my pillow.

I must have fallen asleep, clothes on, because when I am awakened, it's very dark out.

What wakes me is Sherlock screaming!

I rush into his room.

Turning on a lamp I see Sherlock is on his back, arms splayed out like on a cross, head turning side to side. tears running down his face.

"Sherlock, Sherlock get off your back!!! Turn around. You're hurting yourself." He can't hear me. He still is in a dream state.

I have no choice but to go over and try to turn him. He resists bringing his arms back down to his body. I manage to bring one arm down and get him back on his stomach.

I sit down next to him on the bed.

He's moaning and still crying.

I begin to rock the bed slightly, putting my hand on his curls and rubbing his head. I rub my hands lightly on his arms and neck. He calms down and goes back to sleep.

Pulling a chair over to the bed, I take a blanket and pull it over me, put my feet on the bed, and eventually fall asleep.

He wakes twice that night with nightmares. Screaming!

One time Mrs. Hudson, in her nightgown, comes up the stairs to see what is happening.

" Sherlock has been badly hurt and is having some nightmares. I am trying to keep him calm."

"Can I do anything John?", all worry was written on her face.

" In the morning can I ask you to make us breakfast?"

Yes dear, if you need anything else call me". And she gives me a slight kiss on the cheek and goes back downstairs.

The next time he wakes it is very early in the morning.

I am very stiff from trying to sleep in the chair.

I give him another Oxycontin and tell him just to lie there.

"Mrs. Hudson will be up with some breakfast for us later."

I have no toiletries here so just wash up and try to make myself more comfortable.

I decide to call Mycroft. I am pissed at all this.

"Hello John, what is wrong?"

Mycroft, WHAT IN THE HELL happened to Sherlock? I am at the flat and see the slash marks on his back. Some of them reopened recently."

I'm not going to tell him about our encounter with Jim, but I think he must already know. That man has eyes all over the place.

"John, I can't do anything else. He is safest in your care."

Mycroft DOES sound a bit worried...but only a bit.

"Call me if you need more meds. Keep him in and quiet. He NEEDS to get food into him. PLEASE do this for HIM, John? I will tell you more when I can. HELP HIM JOHN!"

What else can I say but, "Okay Mycroft, but I want explanations later." And I hang up.

I am glad that Sherlock is back...but not sure what to do yet with this new situation.

I am in the living room and sit in my chair-MY chair. I lean back and just close my eyes for an instant

I wake to someone shaking my shoulders...it is Sherlock.

"What the FUCK are you doing out of bed"?

He is swaying on his feet...I get up and put out my hands, he takes them.

"I want to sit here in this room," in a very weak voice.

He still has his trousers on.

"First let's get your trousers off and something more comfortable on. Can you take a shirt on you?"

"Yes, I think so...just can't lean on anything right now."

"Sit down in your chair and I'll put a pillow against your lower back to prop you"

I bring some PJ bottoms and a tee shirt for him. Taking off his trousers he puts on the PJ's and shirt and as he is doing that, I prop the pillow for him.

Just then Mrs. Hudson yoohoos and comes in. She is carrying a tray with toast, jam, eggs and bacon.

"Mrs. Hudson, you are a dear." I move over the small table and place it and the tray by Sherlock.

"You will eat something dearie." she says as she notices how thin he is.

Sherlock shakes his head no.

Mrs. Hudson walks to him, leans down and says very sternly." Now listen here, Sherlock Holmes, you WILL listen to John AND I. And WE both say you will eat. Do you get that or you WILL face consequences?"

I have turned away and I'm giggling to myself. I CAN'T imagine what the consequences could be from Mrs. Hudson!

But it is enough to get a smile from Sherlock and a nod yes.

She looks at me and starts to go back downstairs and stops. "If you have any more trouble with him, let me know. Right?"

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson".

I look at Sherlock and he lets out a laugh and so do I. It is the first time we have laughed since seeing each other again.

I text Mary....I am staying with Sherlock right now...will be home later in the afternoon.

She texts back... For heaven sake, what is going on there? And HOW is Sherlock back?

Not answering, more interested in seeing Sherlock eat good, I sit in my chair and watch him.

I am not in the mood for food...but for Sherlock, I eat some eggs and toast.

Sherlock reluctantly eats, a good portion of the food. I also have a large glass of water sitting there and make him drink the whole thing.

After the meal is finished I look at Sherlock," I think you should try to sleep some more."

"No, let me sit here. I'm not in so much pain right now. I know you are expecting me to tell you what happened. All I will tell you is that I was in Serbia trying to take down Jim's network. I succeeded but also got captured in the process."

Seeing my look, he answers the look with, "YES I was tortured. Mycroft rescued me out of the prison. I came home and spent a few days in the hospital. AND that is ALL you will know."

Taking some breaths and trying to relax I nod agreement and leave it alone.

I am sure I will get nothing more from him. And besides, I KNOW what he is going through. Reliving all of that is horrid! And it does take a long time to go away.

Mrs. Hudson comes up a while later and tells us she is making food for lunch and dinner. WHAT would we do without her!!!!

After lunch, Sherlock lays down on the couch on his side. I wait til he falls asleep and then head on downstairs, telling Mrs. Hudson I'm going out and to call me on my cell if needed.

I have to go to my flat and get some clothes and toiletries...and if Mary is home, talk to her.

Mary is not home...I assume she is at work.

I find my suitcase and pack some clothes and stuff in it and then text Mary... I will be staying at Sherlock's for a few days til he is able to be on his own. Mrs. Hudson is seeing to our meals.

Next, I head to the police headquarters to see DI Lestrade. Sherlock has worked with him in the past.

Boy! Is Lestrade surprised to learn that Sherlock is alive! I tell him just a bit about what happened to Sherlock and that he is worn down and needs lots of rest.

"So, John Watson, what are you going to do?", he looks at me quizzically.

"To be perfectly honest, Greg, I am not sure yet. Sherlock and I have some things to discuss and then...well...just then."

"And there is my girlfriend to contend with. So I will have to play this out and see."

He promises to come to the flat and help cheer him up.

Back to 221b.

Sherlock is awake and watching the telly.

"I guess you are doing better. Would you like tea and maybe some biscuits?"

"Yes thanks, John."

And just like the old days, we sit and watch some silly shows with Sherlock yelling, although not as loud, at the stupidity of the programs.

I was blissfully enjoying this moment.

That night I put more salve on his back...and give him the medication. Only once did he get up yelling. I went into his room and quieted him down.

The next few days were spent making sure Sherlock ate and was resting.

Lestrade and Molly came one day.

I know Greg had gotten a divorce and I assumed that he and Molly were dating.The four of us were reminiscing about some of the old cases we solved when Mrs. Hudson came upstairs and we invited her to sit and listen in.  
Lestrade remembered the"hound" case and I recalled how frightened Sherlock was when HE thought he actually saw a huge dog. But as usual, Sherlock solved that.It was the chemical that was put in the fog in the hollow.

And we sit into the evening just enjoying the good company.

I watch Sherlock carefully to make sure he is not tiring.

I was content to listen to Sherlock's deep voice as he talked. Watch the wrinkles around his mouth when he smiled.

Every once in awhile I caught him looking at me..and we smiled at each other. It was a 'sink into the moment' time.

Mycroft does show up a few times but I must admit I continue to be a bit cool towards him. I walk out of the room to let the two of them talk. One time he gets me alone in the kitchen and says, "thank you, John. He is progressing very well. Now, what are you doing with Mary?"

"I think, if I am not mistaken, Mycroft, that it is none of your business."

He looks at me sternly and walks into the living room, picks up his coat and cane and says to Sherlock," I will be going. Take care, brother mine."

Mary has been constantly texting me. I keep her abreast of Sherlock's health and what I am doing.

Finally, she pays a visit to us at the flat.

It is awkward, to say the least. And when Sherlock goes to the loo Mary asks, annoyed, "What is NOW going to happen? Are we still a couple, John?"

"Mary, I HAVE to help Sherlock first, then we can talk about this".

"Sounds like you care more about him than ME."

I shrug my shoulders and let her know I will be in touch with her soon.

Sherlock comes back to the living room, Mary gives her farewells and leaves.

Sherlock has sensed that it did not go well.

He sits down again in his chair and picks up the laptop.

"What is the matter, John?"

"Nothing, Sherlock. Just don't ask."

He begins to say something...stops...and looks down at his laptop.

Nothing I could do about any of this yet. I am waiting for the best time to approach Sherlock on the subject of 'us'.

The next few days fly by with basically the same routine. Occasionally Mycroft or Lestrade show up and Mrs.Hudson comes up every day, most days with food in hand.

When she doesn't, we order takeaway. Mainly Chinese...since that is Sherlock's favorite.

One day we receive a package of food. It is from Angelo's restaurant. It's the place where we had dinner together for the first time and one of our favorite haunts.

I open it up and there is the Italian food, plus a candle. And around the candle is a note. 'For your date and you'.

Memories flood back for both of us.

Angelo had thought we were dating the first time we went to his place. He had said, as he placed the candle on the table,"Anything Sherlock, for you and your date." I looked up at him," I am not his date". But, boy did Angelo hit it on the head!

As Sherlock improves I find time to go into the office each day...but only for a few hours.

I text Mary a lot but get very few responses. At some point, I have to face her and get this straightened out.

First of all, I have to decide if I want to be with Sherlock.

Which means talking to him about our relationship.

On a nice evening, warm out, windows open, we're in our chairs by the fireplace. It's too warm for a fire.

Both of us have our laptops open and I figure this is a good time to talk.

I close the laptop and move my chair in closer to him. Looking up he deduces something and closes his laptop.

"Yesss John?"

"Talk time Sherlock, I want to understand what you and I are doing...relationship wise. What do you expect from...?

Interrupting me he says, "Go ahead, John, I am all yours."

Sherlock, I love you, have from almost the day we met...and yet I've denied it because I felt ashamed to say I was gay."

I can tell that he is going to say something about that.

"No, don't say anything. Let me get this all out. Okay?"

He waves his hand at me and nods yes.

"But through all of this, I also had no idea how you felt towards me. So I kept it light. Lots of times just looking at you was enough. But you kept leaving me..running off on cases forgetting I was there. And then this...- I sit back in my chair.

He gets up and begins to walk around.

"SIT DOWN," I say, and then in a quiet voice, "please?'

He sits and does not look at me but at the ground.

I sit up and lean very close to him.

Are we "partners" (air quotes) are we "lovers" (air quotes) Sherlock Holmes what are we?"

And then sit back and wait for the answer. Although to be honest, my future lies in what he says and it is uncomfortable to me. Afraid of what he is going to say.

Putting his hands together in the familiar "prayer" look he sits still, looking down, not at me.

Taking his hands down, he now leans into me.

" As you know, all sentiment is abhorrent to me."

I sigh in disgust. "Oh, don't give me that CRAP about it was for the best!" I was getting annoyed.

"No, let me talk. You wanted to hear the truth and so let me relate it to you."

" When you walked into Bart's that day with Mike I immediately felt something towards you. I had no idea what to do about it...since again, you kept going on and on about- not being gay. And you were dating women. I was so excited when you moved in and joined me in solving crimes. My emotions kept growing...and with it the idea that I had to protect you. I knew Jim wanted me...knew he felt love towards me...even though it was not a good love. I knew what the GAME was all about. He was looking to keep me, to be his lover. But...you came into my life and YOU WERE HERE IN THE FLAT WITH ME. A PART of me."

At this point, he gets up and begins pacing the room.

"He would kill you if he could and I had to stop that. So there were times when I left you and ran off by myself. To be with him...not literally...but be with him in solving his little riddles."

He stops walking and stands stock still, looking at me, no, staring at me.

"And then came the fall from the roof. I so WANTED to come out of that without the consequences you witnessed. But...Jim had me hog-tied. I had no choice...either jump or have all of you, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson and YOU killed."

"There was no denying on my part or Mycroft's that if you had ANY suspicion of my being alive, you, of ALL the people, would not have reacted like you actually did. Do you understand that part of it?"

I did not say anything...looked up at him and just listened.

"It broke my heart to have to do that. But it was SO necessary for the work."

My face must have shown how upset I got over THAT remark.

"Oh, now you are angry with me. I see it on your face. You are thinking THE WORK. And you are WRONG, John Watson. It was not THE WORK. YOU were the WORK. I had to WORK to keep you alive. It was all about YOU. Protecting the one I love...the man who fills my thinking moments.

YOU kept me alive through all the torture and months in jail. YOU were the picture in my head."

He looks down at me...holds out his hands and I take them and stand up.

"John Hamish Watson, will you be my love?"

Into his arms I go...hugging and loving this man. He leans down and tenderly kisses me. I begin to cry and he cradles me in his arms, his hands caressing my back and his head on my hair.

I go on tiptoes....grab his beautiful hair, pull him down and begin to kiss him with all the love I have.

His mouth accepts mine...I open my mouth to find his tongue immediately probing my mouth...tongues entwining.

The rest of the evening we spend in exploring our feelings...our love for each other.

The next morning I get up to find I am in Sherlock's bed with his arms and legs around me.

He wakes, smiles and says, " A good first morning of our lives, John".

After more love making we get up, shower and have breakfast.

I tell Sherlock I have something to do and he just shakes his head yes. He knows.

I am going to tell Mary that it's over.

I go to her flat knowing that she is home at the moment. She comes to the door, looks at me and I can see she knows. " You don't have to say a word, John, I see it on your face. You and Sherlock. All I can say is good luck to you both."

" Mary", I begin, but she cuts me off.

"No words, John. just go to him."

And she closes the door on me before I can say another word to her.

What else did I expect I guess.

I decide to walk back to the flat...the day is so nice out and I am in love.

I'm going back to 221B Baker Street to spend my life with Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
